Sequel to Stormy
by loseriffic
Summary: The sequel to Stormy. Fae and Ron haven't spoken all summer, and they're more tense than ever. Starts off in July and will probably go through the entire Hogwarts year. PLEASE R & R. OOTP SPOILERS.


A sudden clash sounded from inside a rather tall house that looked like numerous homes stacked on one another. But this was a normal thing at the burrow, so none of its inhabitants paid much mind.  
  
"You did what?"  
  
Ronald Weasley might have been easily mistaken as a victim who had just suffered a mild heart attack. The saucer he had been levitating with his wand in boredom had dropped to the floor, and shattered into pieces.  
  
His sister, Ginny, the youngest of the Weasleys, stared at him with an eyebrow raised. "Just for the last week or so of summer," she said and then paused. "That was mum's good china you know." She looked down at the pieces of white porcelain that were now strewn across the wooden floor of the kitchen.  
  
There was a loud CRACK, and two brothers identical down to the last freckle appeared sitting in their places at the table. They had obviously heard the loud noise, and they being quite the troublemakers, came to investigate right away. One of them looked down at the mess on the floor.  
  
"Smooth, Ron," Fred nodded at him. "Good thing you didn't get her good porcelain, because then you'd be in some trouble. Oh wait, that was the good kind." He was dripping with sarcasm, but a smile still played his lips.  
  
But the younger boy seemed to have not heard him. He had turned quite pale in contrast with his orange-red hair and freckles, trademarks of the Weasley family.  
  
"Y-yes, but. . ." he was stammering.  
  
The twins caught on. "Oh, so you've told him the news about Fae. " George, the second one, said. Ron let out something that sounded like a cross between a croak and a whimper at the mention of her name. He might as well have been speaking of You-Know-Who.  
  
Ginny looked a little irritated. "Well, it's not like mum would have let her come if you had asked her to stay the night."  
  
"And why not?" he finally managed to say.  
  
George snorted, and clasped his hands together and put on a pleading voice, "Oh, mummy, please let my girlfriend spend the night! And maybe she can sleep in my bed, too - "  
  
"She is not my girlfriend! She's. . . she's a friend with benefits!"  
  
There was a pause and then a loud roar of laughter from the twins. He felt his ears go pink, though he was sure his face was still the color of milk. Friends with benefits, eh?  
  
He and Fae had met last year at their school, Hogwarts, and absolutely detested each other at first. They fought worse than he and Hermione did, and eventually were punished for their constant bickering by having to have magical handcuffs put on them for almost two months. Fae had later been accused of using the Morsmordre to create the Dark Mark, and was also suspicious of being some kind of young Death Eater. After an encounter with Voldemort that they both experienced together, though, she was proved innocent, and she and Ron finally stopped fighting. In fact, he had kissed her at the end of school dance, and at Kings Cross on their way home from school for the summer.  
  
It was a rather strange thing for him to think about.  
  
Ginny turned to Ron. "It's not like she's the only one coming, you know. Harry and Hermione will be here, too, but they'll get here earlier," she said. Leaning onto the table with her elbows, she cocked her head to the side. "I don't see why you're getting so fussed over this. Haven't you been writing her?"  
  
He didn't say anything, and a look of bewilderment crossed his sister's face. "Oh, Ron!" she growled, burying her face in her hands with frustration.  
  
"Don't you know how to keep a girlfriend?" Fred exclaimed, looking at him in shock. "That owl came in every week in the beginning of summer! I wondered why it stopped all the sudden."  
  
He was right; Fae's owl that she kept with her at home had brought Ron a letter from her almost every week. Sometimes twice, if something happened that was especially worth telling. Poor owl, too . . . Fae lived in Ireland while the Weasleys lived in England, so it had quite a flight coming back and forth all the time. He would let it sleep on the roof of the burrow for days at a time after it brought a letter, and regain its strength. However, he had to admit, he hadn't answered more than three or four of Fae's letters, and hadn't seen her at all since the last day of school.  
  
"I'd just found more entertaining things to do! A lot of them, too!" he said defensively. Ginny continued to just look at him with her eyebrow raised, just egging him to explain so she could yell at him. He took a deep breath. "Oh, you know, things like. . ." he looked around the room and saw a broom in the corner, leaned up against the wall.  
  
"Like practicing Quidditch!"  
  
"And?" She didn't seem convinced.  
  
He looked around again, eyes searching for another excuse. Finally, when he didn't find another one, he cleared his throat. "And. . .Quidditch! What! It takes a lot of time to get it perfected to. . .perfection." He stumbled for words.  
  
Ginny just let out something that sounded like a frustrated sigh, and Fred's voice instinctively changed the subject. . . sort of.  
  
"You know she said she went to America?"  
  
Ron furrowed his brows. He was sure to be the only one of the Weasleys that knew about Fae's trip over the summer with some of her Muggle friends. And he never told the others what she wrote him about. Had Fae been writing to the twins too?  
  
"Fred, how did you know about her trip?" he finally asked, interrupting whatever his brother had been talking about. Then something clicked into place. "You've been reading my letters!"  
  
George looked at his twin. "Well, I guess he's got you then," he said, shrugging like it was no big deal. But Ron thought otherwise.  
  
"You did, didn't you? I can't believe this! Going through my stuff like it's any of your business, and then reading my letters - "  
  
Fred scowled. "Oh, come off it, Ron. It's not like you ever read them, any way."  
  
There were a few moments of frustrated silence while the others just watched Ron, as his lips moved angrily but no words came out. His ears had turned a nice scarlet color by the time he finally got a few sounds out.  
  
"Well - it's not - completely different - missing the point - my business - Ah. . ."  
  
Fred rolled his eyes. "That's what I thought," he said, and then with a loud CRACK, vanished from sight. George followed shortly.  
  
They never figured out why the twins did that so much; it was usually used to go great distances, but they did it all time, just to do simple tasks like make their way around the house. Ron heaved a sigh and turned back to his sister.  
  
"You know, you really might want to write her. Just to say something like, 'cant wait to see you'. To let her know that you're at least excited about her getting here." She paused. "You are anxious, aren't you?"  
  
He shrugged. Ginny growled.  
  
"Well. I guess I should stop preaching at let you handle this with Harry. He and Hermione will be here tomorrow, by the way," she said, and strode off.  
  
Ron mumbled something under his breath about why he was always the last one to know these things. Although it wasn't bad news: he'd greatly enjoy his two friends' company before Fae got there. Maybe he could ask Hermione about what to do, her being a girl and all. He watched Ginny leave, and as soon as he was sure she had gone up the stairs, turned around and leaned against the counter, looking out the window. It was a pale blue evening with a few stray clouds; a relief from all the rain they had been getting lately. The sun looked like it was thinking about setting, and a soft butter-yellow light surrounded it as it always did before the sky started changing to reds and oranges.  
  
"You are anxious to see her, aren't you?"  
  
Ginny's words were a broken record in his head.  
  
He didn't even know any more. It had been almost two and a half months since he had seen Fae, and a month since he'd even heard from her. He didn't even know if they were still considered, uh, 'together' any more, after what he did.  
  
The door opened and Mrs Weasley bustled in, carrying a paper bag in her hand, and in the other was a wand pointed at two other floating bags.  
  
"Hello, Ron dear," she greeted brightly, as she set her bags down on the kitchen table. Aiming her wand at its contents, she pointed them to their respectful cabinets and other spots to be placed, and they quickly hovered over and landed in the correct places.  
  
"Hi, mum," he said dully, still staring out the window.  
  
She paused and then turned to him. "Something wrong?" she asked, though it was obvious by the tone of his voice that something was, in fact, very wrong.  
  
He took in a deep breath and turned to her, as she continued to put the groceries away. He was going to attempt something he had never attempted before: talking to his mother and ask for advice on girls. He opened his mouth to speak, but he only got out "Mum - " before she started talking herself.  
  
"Oh, I hear Ginny's invited that little girl over. . .what was her name? May?"  
  
"Fae," he mumbled, looking bewildered.  
  
He was unnoticed again, and she went on brightly. "Yes! Fae! I haven't heard much about her since the last day of school. She seemed a dear, is she?"  
  
"Yeah mum."  
  
She tittered on about how excited she was about her visiting, along with Hermione and Harry. All she received in reply was the occasional 'Yeah mum' from Ron. She still didn't notice his morose expression, and finally she stopped speaking long enough to retrieve a box of Bertie Bot's Every Flavored Beans from her bag and levitate it over to his hands. He smiled weakly and muttered a 'thanks'.  
  
"Now, something you wanted to ask me?"  
  
He looked at her for a moment, debating whether to do it or not, and finally shook his head. "Never mind, I forgot what I was going to say."  
  
She looked at him for a brief moment, but then smiled warmly and turned back around to the cabinets and started pulling out ingredients for whatever kind of Weasley food she was making that evening. "Okay dear, tell your brothers and Ginny to be down here in fifteen minutes, and dinner should be ready."  
  
But she turned around and he was already trudging up the stairs. She peered around the corner, and watched him until his heels disappeared, and then shrugged. She turned back around to the task at hand, bewitched a mixing bowl and wooden spoon, and begun humming a soft tune to her self as she started cooking.  
  
+ + +  
  
Ron sat on his bed, looking at the floor miserably. He didn't know what Fae was thinking, besides the fact that he had probably angered her greatly. And even worse, he didn't know what he wanted; he didn't know how he felt about anything. Especially Fae.  
  
He glanced around the room, incase Fred or George were hiding inside for some reason. Then he reached out to the small bedside table where his lamp set, and pulled the drawer open. Inside were a good amount of papers that had obviously been folded before, written in cursive with black ink. He pulled the top one off (the most recent one) and started to read.  
  
Ron, (July 12)  
  
For the twentieth time, how's your summer going? I guess I'm only  
asking because I haven't really received an answer yet. In fact, you  
haven't really written me at all. Oh well, you're just busy then, I  
suppose.  
Hopefully I'll hear from you soon before school starts. Any way, I'm  
going to America for a while over the vacation, and I'll be leaving in  
a week or so. I'm really geeked about it . . .  
  
He stopped less than halfway though the letter and folded it back up again. That letter was written about a month ago. He was dreading her visit, which was a little over two weeks away.  
  
She's probably just coming to visit Ginny any way, he tried to convince himself. But knowing Fae, that wouldn't be the only reason she was there. She had gotten into trouble at school quite a lot. Snape and McGonagall knew her by name within the first week of the school year because of all her detentions, and she was nearly expelled for fighting.  
  
But what if she wasn't the same Fae he knew? What if she had changed completely? What would happen then?  
  
A loud crack interrupted his thoughts, and Fred stood before him. "Dinner." And with that he disappeared again. Ron was still angry with him for having gone through his letters, but his brother knew better and had vanished before he had time to express his anger again.  
  
Heaving himself off of his bed, he slowly made his way down the stairs and the aroma of his mom's meat pies caught his attention. He sighed again. They had the same thing for dinner last night, and the night before that. Planting himself at his seat and looking nothing less than miserable, he took his fork in his hand and stared witheringly at the pie.  
  
His mother was about to comment on how he hadn't touched his food five minutes into the meal, when the door opened and Arthur Weasley walked in. He received a chorus of "Hi, dad" from his children, but caught a wife's judging look.  
  
"You're late."  
  
He smiled at her, his sunny disposition never failing as he took off his coat and the hanger reached out a hand and took it from him. "Sorry, dear. There was a bit of a hold up at the Ministry. Someone accidentally let out some pixies and they were flying all over the place. I was chosen to help get them back in their cages. Pesky little buggers."  
  
He didn't seem to notice how, once again, he was given all the work to do. The Ministry didn't treat him as they treated all of their other employees, and he was always found staying at work late, having to finish extra paperwork that they gave him so they wouldn't have to do it himself. None of the Weasleys wanted to point this out to him, because deep down he knew it all very well, but chose not to acknowledge it.  
  
Instead of saying how he had been cheated, they only smiled and nodded, and continued their eating as an awkward silence fell. Ron had nearly forgotten about his problem until he saw Ginny eye him and then turn to their father, who had just seated himself at the table.  
  
"Oh, dad, you know Fae is coming with Harry and Hermione too?"  
  
He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then smiled again. "No, I didn't. I don't believe I've ever met her. Is she a friend of yours?"  
  
George seized the opportunity. "Yeah, she's a friend of Rrrr . . ." but Ron had already dug the heel of his shoe into his brother's foot. ". . .Rrroasted potatoes?" George finished painfully, lifting a plate of potatoes to his father. He looked at him strangely, not really sure how someone could be a friend of roasted potatoes, but then took the bowl.  
  
"I invited her," Ginny said, for some reason saving Ron's neck. "She's not coming for a while after the others, but she'll be here for about a week and a half."  
  
Mrs Weasley's eyes lit up and a look of sudden realization crossed over her face. "Oh, Ron! Was she the one I saw you with at Kings Cross last year? On the last day of school?"  
  
He didn't say anything, and shoveled a rather large chunk of meat pie into his mouth so he wouldn't have to answer. Then he realized it was a yes or no question, and all he had to do was nod his head.  
  
"Well, if you saw them when I saw them, they might have not noticed you because they were- " George was cut off again on his attempt to redeem himself by Ron "accidentally" tipping his cup into his lap. Pumpkin juice spilled all over his brother's pants, and earned him a nice dirty orange- looking stain.  
  
"Oh, sorry, George!" he exclaimed with mock sincerity.  
  
He glared daggers at him, and Ron stood up and excused himself. Wanting to get away before he had to say anything else about Fae, he made his way outdoors.  
  
Why was everyone getting on him about her now? Did they have it planned out so that they would all do it at the same time and really get on his nerves, maybe persuading him to write to her? He heaved a frustrated sigh. It wasn't that big a deal anyway; it was just a letter! Or.five. Five, or twelve, or something; it was all the same.  
  
Deciding that thinking about this would do nothing to brighten his mood, he decided to actually take out his broom and try playing Quidditch again. Something he had truthfully not done since the very beginning of summer. Just to get Ginny off his back for supposedly lying about why he never wrote Fae.  
  
Ok, so it was a lie. 


End file.
